


can't wait to open your package

by haleofStilesheart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek is a Softie, Emissary in Training Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gift Giving, Holidays, Light Angst, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 10:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12957264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Derek is notorious for giving terrible gifts, from the time he got his high school girlfriend the worst smelling perfume on the face of the earth to the time he got Stiles strawberry fudge, completely forgetting that Stiles is allergic to strawberries. This year, he finds the perfect gift for Stiles: a Polish grimoire. But looks can be deceiving and the book of spells may not be as innocent as he anticipated.





	can't wait to open your package

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ritarmandi](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ritarmandi).



> I hope you like it! And happy holidays!

Gift giving had never been Derek's forte.

When he was younger, way back in sixth grade, he had participated in a class Secret Santa exchange. The name he had picked out of the hat belonged to a girl that Derek hadn't known very well.

She always wore rose barrettes in her dark brown hair and sunflower patterned dresses on warm days. Derek had figured a potted plant was the perfect gift.

Apparently not considering the girl ran out of the classroom screaming and crying when Derek presented her with the potted pansies. According to one of the girl's friends, she was terrified of bugs, even the innocuous ladybug that had been resting on one of the pansy petals.

In high school, he'd had a similar experience with his first girlfriend, Paige. With Valentine's Day quickly approaching, Derek had found himself running around town looking for the right gift.

He had ended up having to ask his older sister, something Laura had held over his head for months. She had suggested something classy and romantic, like fancy chocolates and perfume.

Instead of taking the easy route with a cheap chocolate assortment, Derek had devoted himself to finding Paige a bottle of perfume. His overachieving ways led him to yet another gift giving disaster.

While at the store, perusing through displays of various perfumes and cologne, Derek hadn't bothered to actually smell any of the perfumes. His sensitive nose had already been irritated enough by all the scents of the mall.

He had simply read the labels on all of the perfumes, trying to guess which one would complement Paige's natural scent. After hours of searching, Derek had settled on a reasonably priced bottle of perfume promising a musky, woody scent with floral notes.

It had sounded perfect. But in reality, it was the farthest thing from it.

Paige had eagerly tried it out the day Derek gave it to her. And she had promptly gagged on the overbearing scent of old ladies and rotting trees.

Derek had nearly been sick, the horrible, dated scent immediately giving him a migraine from hell. He'd had to avoid Paige for a week afterwards, the scent still clinging to her skin.

A year or so later, he ended up giving a maniacal murderess the keys to his family's home as a gift thanks to his teenaged tendency to think with his dick instead of his brain. And, well, everyone knew how that had ended.

For the next several years, he hadn't had to bother getting anyone gifts, alleviating the pressure of being a horrible gift giver. But considering the fact that he was now dating the guy who always seemed to give the most perfect gifts, it was time for him to get better at it. And fast.

He hadn't done so well last year.

Aside from getting Erica the wrong shade of lipstick --- he had gotten her cream pink when she only wore shades of red --- and buying Isaac a video game that he already owned he had screwed up royally with Stiles.

After weeks of agonizing over what to get his new boyfriend for their first Christmas together, Derek had finally decided on what he had hoped would be the perfect gift. He had visited the local bakery that Stiles had dragged him to countless times and bought two pounds of strawberry swirled fudge.

He even had a whole spiel ready about why he picked out the fudge for Stiles; it was sweet, like Stiles, and the swirls of strawberry were pink, which was close enough to Stiles' favorite color red, though Erica may have disagreed.

Derek had been extremely confident, sure that Stiles would be delighted by his gift and hail Derek as the best boyfriend ever. Okay, maybe he wasn't  _ that  _ confident, but he had been pretty optimistic.

Of course, that optimism had been completely shattered the day before Christmas when the pack had gathered at the loft to exchange gifts.

Stiles had torn into the shiny wrapping paper covering his gift with all the unbridled enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning. His face had lit up brighter than a Christmas tree when he saw the logo of the bakery on the box.

When he had yanked the top of the box off, his smile had faltered. To anyone else, it probably wouldn't have been noticeable, but Derek had seen it and it had sent his high hopes plummeting to earth in a fiery blaze to outdo Icarus.

"Oh, Derek, I love it," Stiles had cooed, but his voice had been devoid of any real enthusiasm. Placing the lid back on the box of fudge, Stiles had looked up at Derek with a sad little smile as he explained, "But I can't eat it. I'm allergic to strawberries."

Derek hadn't believed his ears, except that he did because of course, he had screwed up again. He had given Stiles the  _ one thing _ that he was allergic to.

Over the next week, Derek had worked his way through the box of fudge, every bite more bitter than the last.

This year, he was a bit more confident that the gifts he picked out for the other members of the pack would be much better received. Mostly because Stiles had helped him out with the shopping.

For hours they had wandered around the local county mall, picking out all sorts of things for the pack. Derek didn't know how Stiles did it, but he managed to find perfect, wonderful things for everyone without breaking a sweat.

He found a pair of emerald drop earrings that were guaranteed to make Erica drool along with a new pair of leather boots for her since her last pair had gotten ruined the previous full moon. Derek bought the earrings and Stiles bought the boots, brushing off all of Derek's offers to pay for everything.

He had subsequently found Boyd a fancy coffee maker, that Derek paid for, and a new Kindle, that Stiles paid for. And a new camera and fashionable scarf for Isaac, mostly so he could continue to tease the beta about his scarf fetish.

Their day had continued on like that for hours as Stiles found the perfect gifts for everyone from Kira --- a stand mixer for her new apartment and a six month subscription to Birchbox --- to Peter --- a fancy wine decanter and a set of whiskey stones, mostly because if there was one thing Peter loved more than being a dick for the hell of it, it was high quality alcohol.

Derek had desperately tried to find something that Stiles would appreciate as a gift. While window shopping, Stiles had pointed out something in a shop window, commenting that it was nice.

Derek had immediately offered to buy it for him, insisting that Stiles could just act surprised when he opened it in front of the pack. Stiles had demurred with a fond eye roll, leaning heavily against Derek's side as he tsked, "Der, I am not shopping for my own presents."

Derek had grumbled under his breath about how horrible of a gift giver he was, reminding Stiles of the previous year's fiasco. But Stiles had remained adamant, Derek had to pick out a present for him all by himself.

Which is how Derek wound up in some seedy, hippy bookstore a few towns over that reeked of cheap pot and even cheaper vodka, looking for the perfect gift three days before Christmas.

He wanted to find something special for Stiles, something that showed him how much he cared. After vetoing every department, boutique, and dollar store in Beacon Hills, he had decided to venture out of town to find Stiles' gift.

The bookstore in Green Springs had caught his attention in part to the bright neon sign designating it as an 'eclectic bookstore' and the slight scent of magic that hung in the air. He figured at the very least, he could pick Stiles up a few books about different types of magic other than the ones that Deaton was teaching him about.

He realized that books weren't exactly the very best present but he was getting extremely desperate. Besides, Stiles liked reading and he was sure to go crazy over anything to do with his emissary training.

He was almost a full year into his training, having started the previous February shortly after his and Derek's first fight as a couple. After a powerful witch had moved into town, Stiles had wound up nearly getting killed when he refused to stay home where it was safe.

Following their fight that had mostly consisted of Derek berating Stiles for being so reckless and Stiles trying to defend himself by pointing out that he sure as hell wasn't going to just sit on the bench while his friends put their lives in danger, they finally came to a compromise. A compromise that led to Stiles convincing Deaton to start training him as an emissary.

With Stiles' spark and the fact that he was dating an alpha, it just made sense.

Following his nose, Derek wandered through the bookstore in search of something Stiles would like. The stacks of books were covered in cobwebs and layers of dust, the musty scent of old books nearly overpowering the hint of magic that led him towards the back of the store.

There was a long glass display case that ran along the back wall of the shop, individual books displayed on a bed of maroon velvet. A yellow post-it note on top of the glass designated the books as grimoires.

Even through the thick glass, Derek could smell the books. Most of them were just as ordinary as any other book in the shop but then he found it.

_ It  _ was a clearly ancient grimoire bound in cracked dark brown leather that absolutely  _ reeked  _ of magic.

Leather straps with burnished gold buckles held the book shut yet there was no scent of anything nefarious. Small clumps of light green moss seemed to grow out of the leather binding, a testament to the book's inherent magic.

The pages were gilded, clearly well-maintained. In the center of the cover, a gold silhouette of a linden tree was pressed into the leather, branches and roots encircled by a gold loop.

It was extremely promising. And when he noticed another post-it note, this one beside the book announcing it as  _ Polish grimoire, _ he knew that it was perfect.

Half an hour later, Derek was back in Beacon Hills wrapping Stiles' present, the smell of hope and magic mingling in the air.

*******

Three days after Christmas Eve, Stiles was still trying to figure out why his boyfriend had given him a book full of sex spells for Christmas.

The gift exchange on Christmas Eve had gone even better than expected. The betas had all torn into their gifts like the pack of voracious wolves that they were.

They had all loved their presents, ooh-ing and aah-ing and singing Derek's praises for not giving them all horrible gifts like the previous year. Boyd was the only one who had kept his gift from last year, partially because of his loyalty to the alpha and partially because the sweater Derek got him was too ugly to donate to charity.

Stiles had eagerly ripped into his own gift with equal parts excitement and trepidation. But the grimoire he had discovered under the shiny gold wrapping paper chased all fears of Derek's penchant for giving horrible gifts out of his head.

Stiles had spent the rest of the evening lauding Derek for his wonderful choice in gifts, resting his head on Derek's shoulder as they cuddled on the couch. He hadn't even bothered to stick his tongue out at the others when they let loose with a chorus of jokes about him and Derek being an old married couple.

He had been too wrapped up in the calm happiness of being with the pack in Derek's loft, gathered around as they all snuggled up together. He had been too content with nodding off on Derek's shoulder, drooling onto the sleeve of his Henley, to even open the grimoire.

The following morning, Stiles had celebrated Christmas with his dad the way they had for the past decade.

Stiles woke up early to get a shower before starting on breakfast, tiptoeing past the mountain of poorly wrapped presents under the tree. Half an hour later, he had a package of turkey bacon cooked and a stack of whole wheat pancakes flipped.

It had taken another half hour for Stiles to cajole his dad into getting out of bed. He had to brew a pot of coffee and bribe the Sheriff with the promise of  _ real  _ bacon the next time he had a weekend off.

After a shower of his own, the Sheriff finally made his way down to the kitchen. In a pair of threadbare Christmas lounge pants and a faded Beacon County Sheriff's Department t-shirt, he looked comfier than Stiles had seen him in a long time.

Over a breakfast full of lighthearted banter and copious amounts of coffee, they watched old holiday movies that were playing on cable. They sang along off-key to every single song.

They opened their presents together on the couch over cups of hot chocolate, shredding both wrapping paper and newspaper coverings. They mostly exchanged clothes, ironic t-shirts and flannels for Stiles and sweaters for the Sheriff, and other small things that were selected with both practicality and sentiment in mind.

Unfortunately, the Sheriff still had to go work. Giving his son a tight hug, the Sheriff said his goodbyes and promised to be home in time for dinner.

With no other plans for the remainder of the day, Stiles had decided to browse through the grimoire Derek had given him. Maybe try out a few easier spells just to get a feel for the type of magic.

He had expected a handful of simple spells, spells designed for beginners so they wouldn't be overwhelmed. A few conjuring spells, maybe some incantations for stress relief, one or two transfiguration charms.

So imagine his surprise when he cracked open the grimoire to find a collection of sex spells. Merry Christmas to him, indeed.

*******

For days he tried to figure out why exactly Derek had given him a grimoire chock full of extremely detailed and sometimes very kinky sex spells.

His suspicions ran the gamut from Derek trying to not so subtly hint that he would like to spice up their sex life with a little bit of magic to Derek unknowingly giving him the Slavic version of a magical kama sutra.

So, in typical Stiles fashion, he had dedicated himself to finding out whether or not Derek had purposefully given him a collection of sex spells. Which is why he invited himself over to Derek's loft under the pretense of binge watching shitty Christmas movies.

Derek didn't seem suspicious at all, probably because Stiles inviting himself over was an increasingly common occurrence in his life. Instead, he had greeted Stiles at the door with a wide grin and a huge bowl of caramel popcorn.

While Netflix buffered for an insanely long time, Stiles curled up on the couch with Derek, laying his head on Derek's shoulder and throwing an arm around his waist. Like an affectionate puppy, Derek nuzzled into Stiles' hair, hand feeding him bites of caramel corn like the sappy dork he was.

They sat in companionable silence as the opening credits rolled, introducing actors neither of them had ever heard of before, until Stiles cleared his throat. Keeping his eyes on the TV screen, Stiles asked, "Hey, Der? You're, y'know,  _ satisfied, _ right?"

"What?" Derek replied, confusion evident in his voice. Brushing his fingers up Stiles' upper arm in an absentminded caress, he assured him, "Yeah, of course, I am. I have everything I've ever wanted."

He punctuated his statement by pressing a kiss to the top of Stiles' head. With one suspicion checked off the list, Stiles hummed and fell silent again.

Half an hour into the movie, when the main characters were introduced and the main plot of saving Christmas was set into motion, Stiles piped up again. Chewing a mouthful of popcorn, he shrugged and nonchalantly asked, "You don't have any like  _ 'weird' _ fantasies or anything, do you?"

Stiles didn't look away from the screen but he knew without looking that Derek whipped his head around to gape at him. Still waiting for an answer, Stiles tossed a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth, chewing patiently.

"Uh, no," Derek answered eventually, sounding somewhat cautious. Given Stiles' previous question, it made sense for him to be wary. Still sounding a bit reluctant, Derek continued, "Not that I can think of, anyway."

Stiles nodded to himself, mentally checking off another potential possibility. Leaning more heavily against Derek's side, he relaxed a bit more.

He waited a little longer to pose his next question, getting embarrassingly engrossed in the extremely predictable plot to the point that he was muttering under his breath about how stupid everyone was being. No wonder all these made for TV movies were two hours long, all of the characters were so freaking stupid!

He found the perfect window of opportunity for his next question when one of the characters onscreen made a comment about speaking three languages. Tipping his head up, he inquired, "How many languages do you speak, babe?"

"Eight," Derek answered easily, letting out a soft sigh of relief when he realized that Stiles' question was more innocuous than his previous two. "English, Spanish, French, German, Portuguese, Japanese, and Russian."

A quiet moment passed, Stiles humming with a thoughtful nod, before Derek asked, "Why?"

"So, you don't speak Polish? Or read it or anything?" Stiles pressed in lieu of answering, tightening his arm around Derek's middle. "Like, you can't read the grimoire you got me or anything?"

"Nope. Not at all," Derek returned, trailing his fingers down Stiles' arm. Stiles considered that.

"So you didn't  _ intentionally  _ get me a book of sex spells. Cool."

Derek promptly choked on a mouthful of popcorn.

He beat a fist against his chest as he coughed, desperately trying to dislodge the popcorn from his esophagus. Straightening up, Stiles took pity on his boyfriend, snapping his fingers with a little burst of magic to help the poor guy out.

"I gave you a  _ what?!" _ Derek blurted incredulously the moment his airway was clear. His eyes were wide, thick brows nearly at his hairline.

Stiles reached out to lay a calming hand on Derek's chest, shifting closer until their bodies were pressed together thigh to thigh. But it didn't seem to do much to calm Derek down as the next thing he did was blurt out, "Oh my god! I really am the worst at giving gifts!"

With that, he clapped his hands over his face and collapsed back against the couch cushions. The tips of his ears burned bright red.

He let out a groan followed by a heavy sigh as he hid his face. His refusal to look at Stiles prompted the emissary to unceremoniously plop himself down in Derek's lap, hands on Derek's wrists to gently guide his hands away from his face.

"Hey, hey, hey," Stiles cooed softly, pausing to press a kiss to the center of Derek's palms. Squeezing Derek's hands in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, Stiles assured him, "You got me an amazing gift, Derek. It's not your fault it just so happened to be written by some Polish pervert."

Derek managed to crack a smile. Reaching up to brush an eyelash off Stiles' cheek, he teased, "I didn't know you wrote grimoires."

"Asshole," Stiles chuckled, already leaning down to press a kiss to Derek's lips. Laying his forehead against Derek's, he murmured, an undercurrent of heat in every word, "Besides, it's not all bad. I'd really like to try a few of those spells out."

With a very interested hum, Derek leaned up for another kiss. Maybe he wasn't such an awful gift giver after all.


End file.
